


War

by Risingwood



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood, Death, Guns, War, but somebody might enjoy this, i apologize for any inconsistancies, most of this is completely not canon. like at all, please be kind this was for a writing assignment in 2013 and is definitely not my best writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:51:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7701034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risingwood/pseuds/Risingwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This follows the life of Mark, a man who joined the army for his side of the planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote for my English class a few years ago, in 2013. It does not have a lot to do with Red vs Blue. The only connections are that some of the names are the same, Felix is there in the ending part, and that I based Felix's words on the speech he gave in an episode of RvB. The main character is an OC.
> 
> If this doesn't sound like something you would like, this might not be the story for you?
> 
> Italics indicate a flashback.

The bell rang at four AM, right on the dot, as usual.  Mark slapped his hand on the top of his alarm clock, and sat up.  His eyes roamed his small room, slightly blurry as he blinked several times.  They locked onto the picture frame beside his bed.  In the picture was a blonde woman, standing in front of a blue house.  A smile crept onto his face as he remembered taking the photo.  It felt like just yesterday he and his mother had moved into that house.  There were so many memories in that house, it had been hard to leave.  
Every morning started out like this, with Mark reminiscing about the times with his mother.  It had been years since he’d seen her, though.  Military life was tough for him.

Mark frowned and picked up the frame.  Turning it over, he read the words scribbled on the back.  “October 20, 3084,” his voice cracked slightly from his grogginess.  The bed below him creaked, and he glanced down to see a familiar face looking back up at him.

“Come on, we have to get up.  It’s our first day as squad leaders and we can’t mess it up by being late.”  The man brushed black hair from his face and stretched, standing up.

“As serious as usual, I see.”  However, Mark couldn’t hide his smile as he put the picture down and hopped down from his bunk.  Johnson was always keeping Mark in check and making sure they kept on schedule.  Mark was lucky to have his close friend by his side all the time; he had no idea how he’d function without Johnson’ organizational things.  Despite hating them at first, he’d found that the endless lists and planners actually helped him.

“You know it,” Johnson responded as he pulled open a drawer.

Mark kicked aside the uniform laying on the floor, which he’d been too tired to properly put away last night.  He opened his dresser and slid on a fresh white button-up.

“You were pretty tired last night, huh?”  Johnson asked him, and Mark could tell he was grinning.

“Yeah, I guess,” was all Mark could respond as he finished dressing.  He grabbed his jacket and put it on before turning to face the other.  
“I don’t know how you _weren’t_.  Halfway through that ceremony, I thought I was gonna pass out from exhaustion,” he spoke, his last word almost cut off by a yawn.

“Oh come on,” Johnson rolled his eyes.  “We were being honored, there was no way you would have passed out.  It’s not every day that you selected to move up a rank like we were.”  He strode towards the door as he pulled his jacket on.  “Anyways, come on, we have to be there in a few.”

“Guess you’re right.  It was still boring though.”  Mark followed his friend through the many hallways.

Once at the cafeteria, they ate their food quickly and headed to the Main Hall.  On the way, they received praise from almost everybody that crossed their path.  With each one, Mark stood taller.  Proudly flaunting the new additions to his uniform, he strutted alongside his friend, who just kindly accepted each appraisal.

As squad leaders, their new job was to lead the foot soldiers, their prior rank, into battle.  Not _completely_ into battle, though.  They were supposed to stay back, as they were more important than the foot soldiers.  Commanding the troops was their main job, not actually fighting.

That was one of the benefits of being a squad leader.  The other benefit was, rather than fighting almost 24/7, squad leaders were able to go back to their rooms and sleep.  Whilst the foot soldiers got little to no sleep, out on the battlefield all the time, squad leaders had shifts.  There were three shifts a day; squad leaders were on the job for eight hours before different squad leaders would come and take over for the next eight hours.

Nothing was better than moving up the ranks, as the benefits just increased with each upgrade, and Mark was determined to get as high as he could.  Alongside Johnson, of course.  They had joined together, and they would move up together.

The years went on, and Mark had just started to wonder if he’d ever move up another rung of the rank ladder, when he was called to a mandatory meeting.  He and Johnson sped down to the meeting hall, and sat in their assigned seats.  The chair at the front was empty, causing Mark to wonder where General Grey was.  Just as he was about to ask, the man in the chair next to the empty one stood up and cleared his throat.

“It is with my… greatest displeasure that I am here to announce something that will change us forever.”

It was obvious that the man, Commander Hanson, was having some trouble speaking.  His posture was so straight and stiff, it must’ve been incredibly uncomfortable.

“General Hanson has… been captured.” His voice was void of any shaking, despite the fact that he was practically General Hanson’s best friend.  “And killed.” He added.

The room was dead silent, nobody quite believing what they’d just heard.  After a few moments, murmurs erupted throughout the crowd.

“I… Can’t believe it,” Johnson said under his breath, eyes wide.  Mark had never seen him like this, not even on the battlefield years ago.  He nodded quietly, agreeing.

“We don’t know how the Resistance infiltrated here, and how they captured him, but they somehow did.  Before any of you ask how we know he’s dead, we received a video from an untraceable source, mere hours after he’d disappeared.”  He paused before speaking again.  “I’m sure you all know what was on the video.”

Mark couldn’t believe this was happening.  How could they have let those dirty Resistance members get in here?  Was there a mole?

“We are currently investigating the possibility of there being a spy for the Resistance in our ranks here.”  The woman sitting next to him at the front stood up.  “Anyway, in an event such as this, we will follow protocol.  Therefore, I, Richard Grey, will become the new general.  And as such, Lieutenant Kimball,” he motioned to the woman standing next to him. “Will take my rank as Commander.”

As he finished speaking, a few people clapped, and Mark joined in.  Sadness filled him as he remembered General Hanson.  He had been a great leader; Mark already missed him greatly.  The only good thing to come out of this, he decided, was that he had the opportunity to move up a rank now.  A sergeant would move to become the new Lieutenant, and one lucky squad leader would be a new sergeant.  Maybe it would be Mark.

…..

Two years later, Mark was happily secure in his position as a sergeant.  He had left Johnson behind as a squad leader, but there had only been one spot for a new sergeant.  Neither of them minded, as they still saw each other quite frequently.  As the time passed from when General Hanson had died, they got used to having General Grey as their leader.  With Commander Kimball as his advisor, he led their side of the war very well.

He did his job, giving speeches on how the war on their planet, Chorus, began.  Mostly, he spoke to the civilians, attempting to persuade them into joining the war.  Every time he announced that he was leaving, Mark remembered when he’d been a child and had watched General Hanson speak, on the television.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_“Good evening, citizens of Tasavalta.  I am General Ryan Hanson, and I am here tonight to give you the tri-monthly update on our war efforts.”_

_Mark, age ten, scooted closer to the television, which he had been watching cartoons on previously.  His eyes lit up as he stared at the sharply-dressed man on the screen._

_“But first, I will give a brief history of the war.”_

_This was Mark’s second-favorite part.  He loved hearing how it all started, and couldn’t wait until he was old enough to enlist and become a part of the Republic, the name for their military._

_“It all began on March 10, 3080, six years ago.  As you all know, Chorus was split into two sides, Tasavalta and Mostand, ten years before that.  After ten years of the tension between us and Mostand, they reacted in a way that could only be described as… terrifying.”_

_Mark nodded, as if he were there in person, taking in the words for the hundredth time.  He never got tired of hearing this part; how Mostand messed up Chorus._

_“They broke into the Office and held Keith Grant, our king, hostage.  Well, not exactly hostage.  Hostage would mean they released him after they got what they wanted, which is not what they did.  After forcing him to pass unfair laws, which has severely hampered our side, Tasavalta.  Not only did it push us into poverty, it also closed us off from other planets.  We are not allowed to leave Chorus anymore, even just for vacation.”_

_“That’s so horrible,” Mark shook his head as he mumbled.  “How could they do that to us?”_

_“Are we just going to sit around and watch them hold our king at gunpoint as they continue to make our lives miserable?  No.  We aren’t.  But we can’t do it without the help of all of you.  We need you to enlist in the Republic, to fight for our freedom!”_

_Mark cheered along with the crowd on the TV, hoping that one day, he might be the one giving that same speech to his people._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As a sergeant, Mark’s job was to train the foot soldiers.  He worked alongside the squad leaders in maintaining morale in the troops, and also had more freedoms to do as he pleased.  Every day, he woke up at six AM, later than when he had been a squad leader, to train the new recruits.  Mark took pride in his rank; his ego was boosted every time he got praised for his good work.  He was excellent at his job, and he knew it.

Nothing could have prepared him for the death of General Grey, though.  The news came so suddenly, just as it had last time.  It was completely unexpected.  General Grey had gone to what they had believed would be a peace talk with the Resistance, but it had ended with an assassination.  So much for a peace talk.

As protocol, they needed a new Lieutenant, and Mark was selected for the job, as he’d shown great skill as a sergeant.  However, just as he’d gotten used to being called Lieutenant, another tragedy happened.

Once again, their General had been captured.  And as it had happened before, they received a tape showing the death of their General, Vanessa Kimball.  It was brutal, and Mark couldn’t even watch the whole thing.  He had seen many deaths since he’d joined the military, but he’d never seen anything like the way they had murdered her.

Years flew by, and Mark loved his position as Commander.  His rank was directly below the General, and he was an advisor of sorts.  As Commander, Mark was supposed to help the General make decisions.  And he did.  For almost five years, he assisted the new General, Caroline York, in almost everything.  They’d developed a bond that rivaled Mark and Johnson’ friendship.

During that time, many change in ranks occurred.  More demotions and promotions happened than in all the years prior, combined.  Of those promotions, there was one soldier who stood out the most; Johnson.  General York saw the potential in him, and knew that he was a great leader.  Soon, he had become Lieutenant.

However, before they could reach the five-year mark of her being their General, she was captured.

Mark was furious.  There was absolutely no way that there _wasn’t_ a spy among their ranks.  It was impossible.  Three captures?  How had they all happened?  There _had_ to be someone giving information to the Resistance.  As usual, a tape was sent to them, showing the murder of General York.  The one doing the actual killing was a bald man, who he assumed to be the General of the Resistance.  As soon as he was promoted to General, he vowed to kill General York’s murderer, and to kill the soldier betraying their side.

…..

With Johnson as his Commander, Mark led the Republic, never forgetting his goals.  He made plans and sent his troops out to complete the tasks, and at first it was going great.  Morale was the highest it had ever been, and it seemed like Mark could bring an end to the war that had ravaged the planet for nearly four decades.  It took two years in his position before Mark accomplished the first of his two personal goals; the General for the Resistance had been captured.

It had taken an immense amount of planning and testing, but with the help of Mark, they had created the perfect plan to capture the general.  And it had worked.

Once the soldiers had brought the general back to their base, Mark and Johnson made their way to the holding chambers to see.

“What’s your name?” Mark barked at the man kneeling on the ground, legs tied together.  Around his wrists were handcuffs, which were attached to the wall by a chain.  His head was down and he didn’t speak.

“I said,” Mark repeated, louder, “ _What’s your name?_ ” He demanded, striking him in the side with the toe of his leather boot.  The man coughed, before speaking.

“John Smith,” He still refused to look up at Mark, which only made Mark feel more anger.

“And what’s your rank?” Johnson snarled at Smith.  Mark knew Johnson was mad at the disrespect, but he wasn’t the one who had personally known General Kimball.

“I’m the general for the Resistance.” His voice shook a bit, but Mark felt no sympathy.  This was the man who had murdered General Kimball on that video tape all those years ago.  Mark’s eyes narrowed.  He could never forgive this man, and he needed to pay for his actions.

“Do you know what we’re going to do, Smith?” Johnson asked, not expecting an answer.  “We’re going to kill you.”

Smith finally looked up, and Mark made eye contact with him.  He saw the fear in Smith’ eyes, and despite his anger, his humanity showed a faint light.  Mark fought that tiny spark of forgiveness, and destroyed it.

“You,” he addressed man standing next to Smith, the squad leader of the group who had captured him, and who had brought him down to the holding chamber.

“Yes, General?”  The taller of the two responded, standing up straight.

“What’s your name, soldier?” Mark’s voice wasn’t as loud as before, but he still spoke with authority.

“Scouty, sir.  Felix Scouty.” The blond man smiled slightly, as he spoke.

“As a reward for your squad’s efforts, I am promoting you to sergeant.  Congratulations.”  Before he could finish speaking, Mark saw Scouty’s smile grow larger.  He clapped a hand onto the man’s shoulder, before speaking again.

“Now, leave.  It’s time for this man to die, and I don’t want you to have to see it.”  He nodded to Scouty, who nodded back.  After he had left, Mark turned back to face the kneeling man.

“Johnson, gun please.”  He held out his hand expectantly, and his request was filled.  Smith looked down again.

“General Smith,” he addressed.  “For your crime of capturing our general, Vanessa Kimball, you will face your charges.  I watched that video, I watched that _smug_ expression on your face as you murdered her.  And for that, you will pay.”  Mark stepped towards Smith, and the gun to the general’s head.

“Any last words, Smith?”

…..

It had been years since Mark had killed General Smith, and yet they were no closer to winning the war.  In fact, they were farther away than they had been ten years ago.  Mark had thought that killing Smith would give them an advantage whilst the Resistance struggled to find and get used to their new general.  However, it seemed like the exact opposite had happened.

Soldier deaths were at an all-time-high, and Mark had no idea how to fix it.  He tried everything, even changing his tri-monthly speeches to bi-monthly, then finally just having one every month.  Despite drafting over two-thirds of the population of Tasavalta into the war, they were losing.

He tried demoting those below him, and promoting new ones, but that hadn’t worked very well either.  The only soldier he’d continued to promote was the one who had brought in General Smith all those years ago; Felix Scouty.  After the event with Smith, he had proved himself to be vital to them.  Now as Lieutenant, Scouty helped Mark and Johnson run the Republic.

It wasn’t until a few more months passed, that the war ended.

The Republic was running out of soldiers.  They had been dying at an alarmingly high rate for the few days before.  There were very few left.  Mark gathered his Council; Johnson, Lieutenant Scouty, and all the sergeants.  Sitting in Mark’s office, they discussed what actions the Republic could possibly take to win the war.  In the middle of their discussion, they sent Lieutenant Scouty out to grab some files from the filing room.  In those files, was all the important information they had gathered throughout the war.

While he was gone, they continued to talk.  But before Mark could finish speaking his next point, Scouty came back in the room.  With four other men.

“Lieutenant, what is this?”  Johnson asked as the others hushed.

“This,” Scouty said as he walked forward, “Is it for you.”

Confused, Mark was about to speak, before something hit him on the back of his head and his vision went completely black.

…..

Felix towered over the other man, staring down at him with a mix of distaste and amusement on his face.  A smirk graced his lips as he watched Mark's eyes open slowly.  Four confused blinks later, Mark's blue eyes widened as they flicked around the room.  The bodies of his fallen council members lay near him, thrown into a few piles.  He made a move to stand up, but found himself tied to a chair, unable to move.  Felix stepped forward and knelt down.

"Hello, Mark," he spat, grinning widely.  A million different emotions flashed across Mark's face, which seemed so completely out of character that Felix almost laughed.  No more was he the fearless leader of the Republic.

"Lieutenant?  What is this?”

His voice sounded so broken and hoarse that Felix almost felt sorry for him.  Maybe if the circumstances were different, he would.

"Hmm?" Felix hummed.

"Why am I...?"  Mark swallowed thickly, loud enough that Felix could hear it clearly.  He tried speaking again.  “What happened?  Are they…?”  Even though he didn’t finish, Felix knew what Mark was asking.

Felix nodded simply, trying to keep his smile from growing.  Yes, they were all dead.  But he didn't want to talk yet, as he feared he might get carried away and reveal everything if he spoke.  He didn’t want to tell Mark anything just yet.

 “Why?”  his simple question was quiet enough that Felix wouldn’t have heard it if not for the fact he was watching Mark’s face closely.  Felix stood back up, stretching his arms behind himself briefly.

 “You’re the only one left.”  It wasn’t an answer to Mark’s question, but he didn’t care about that.

 “What?” Mark’s eyes darted around madly.  Eyes wide, he stared at one in particular; Felix knew that one had been Mark’s close friend, Johnson.  Apparently they had gone into the military together and been promoted together to their current rank after the leader had died.  Oh, how Felix wished he could see into Mark’s mind at that moment; he wanted to see first-hand the hurt and betrayal Mark was undoubtedly feeling.  His head turned and Mark looked at the body a few feet to the left of him.  “Johnson…?” Mark spoke the name softly, and Felix saw a wave of sadness on his face before Mark hid it again.

 “They all killed each other on the battlefield.  But these guys,” Felix kicked a body near him.  Blood splattered onto his boot, the bright red contrasting with the jet-black leather.  “ _These_ guys were all killed by _me_ ,” He was proud, and not afraid to show it.

Mark was dead silent, still focused on Johnson’ body.  He was fighting his inner emotions, just like “a real soldier should” as he’d always put it before during training sessions.  Felix continued, as Mark wasn’t going to talk anytime soon.

 “You’re probably wondering why I didn’t just kill _you_ as well.”  He waited for a response, but to his slight dismay, didn’t get one.  “Well, the answer to that, _my dear Mark_ , is because I want to watch you _suffer_.”

Mark, taking a few deep breaths, finally spoke.

“So, you knocked me out, did you?” Mark asked.  His voice was oddly steady, although Felix could tell Mark was struggling to keep it level.  That wasn’t good enough, Felix wanted to hear him break.

“Good job at figuring _that_ out,” he praised sarcastically.  “I knocked you out and killed the others here.  Oh, it was _fantastic,_ ” Emphasizing his words, he clapped his hands together.  “So much blood.  I wish you’d been awake to see it.”

“Are you done?” Mark’s voice had a tinge of venom to it, which only made Felix that much more confident.

“Not even close.” Felix gave an overly-sweet smile.

“This doesn’t make sense.  We’re your teammates!  I’m your _general!_ ”  Desperation.  “I watched you capture the general of the Resistance all those years ago!”

“Yeah, funny how an act of sacrifice like that buys you so much _trust_.  And so much information.”

            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_“Mark, I’m going to need a detailed list of all the supplies you’ve got on hand.” Scouty had an urgency to his voice that took Mark slightly off guard._

_“What?  Why?  Do you mean for the whole base?” Mark was a bit surprised at the odd request._

_“Yes, I need to know all the supplies for the whole base, and where they’re all located.”_

_“Alright, I’ll get you one.  Why do you need it though?”  Usually this sort of thing was off-limits for anybody who wasn’t a high-ranking officer, but Sergeant Scouty was practically one of them.  The Sergeant wasn’t a high rank in their army, but Scouty had proved himself to be valuable and needed.  It was for those reason that he already had access to many other high-rank places and things._

_“Just for some practice things. Plus, it could be helpful for me to know.” He shrugged._

_“True.  Anything else you need?”_

_“Yes, where would the higher-tech weapons and armor be located?” Scouty asked confidently._

_"I’m… really not supposed to tell that to anybody lower than General Scott.  It’s a hidden location, for a good reason.” Slightly defensive, Mark felt a bit suspicious._

_“Oh come on,” he chuckled a bit, clapping a hand onto Mark’s shoulder.  “You can tell me.  I just want to know so that if it were an emergency, I’d be able to find it easily.  Since I train all our soldiers, I think it’s important for me to know.”_

_Mark considered this, and eventually nodded._

_“You’re right, that is something you should probably know.” All suspicion was gone from Mark._

            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“But don’t you hate the Resistance?  I thought you were against their ways!”  Mark tried to raise his arms, but failed as the ropes were tightly wound around him.  Giving a small chuckle at the sight, Felix spoke again.

“Oh, believe me, I do.  I hate everything about them.  But we just work _so well_ together.”

“You dirty liar.” He was seething; Felix recognized that same look from when he had brought in General Smith.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Let’s not make any… _hasty_ accusations.  I never _lied_ to you, okay?  I just… _stretched the truth_ from time to time.”

“But why?  Why go to all the trouble?  Why “befriend” us and help train soldiers for war?  Why even bother, if you were going to kill us all anyways?” Mark’s voice grew louder, more confident, with each word.

“You think I _liked_ doing it?  You think I _liked_ putting up with you… _morons_? _Every. Single. Day_?”  He shouted back, losing his control a bit.  Quickly regaining it, he composed himself and spoke again, more calmly.  “You see, someone out there has their eyes set on this planet.  Maybe it’s the resources, I don’t really know.” Shrugging, a look of irritation fitted itself on his face.

“The only issue was the _people_.  There are so many of you guys; well, there _were._ ”  Felix laughed softly, any emotion besides ‘amusement’ was gone from him.

“If it were up to me, I’d just... blow all you guys up or something like that.  But my _employer_ has other ideas.”  Felix almost rolled his eyes, remembering back to the conversation he’d had with his employer.  “I had to be careful with you guys.  If a whole planet dies overnight, well, people start to ask questions.  But if you all just, kill _each other_ during war, then well, that’s just a _tragedy_ , isn’t it?”  The grin was back on his face, right where it belonged.

“It was you.  You killed all of them.  Hanson, Grey, General Kimball…” Mark trailed off, and Felix’ lips formed a wide grin.  He loved watching Mark figuring it all out.

“You started this war, didn’t you?”  Mark accused him loudly, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, shall we?”  Unfazed, he continued.  “Tasavalta and Mostand hated each other _long_ before I even _showed up_.  I just had to keep the two sides hating each other whilst you all died.  It was pretty simple, if you ask me.  Training those soldiers to hate the Resistance was _such_ an easy task, I could have _cried_ at how simple-minded those men were.”

Kneeling down in front of the chair again, Felix stared right into Mark’s eyes.

“Tell me, Mark.  Does it hurt?  Knowing just how much _death_ you’ve brought to this country?  How much _pain and suffering_ you’ve caused the people here?”

            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_"Any last words, Smith?” Mark held the barrel of the gun to the other man’s head, his finger just touching the trigger._

_"P-Please, don’t…!”  The man looked up, his eyes showed pure fear, pleading with Mark to take the gun away from his head.  It almost worked, but Mark knew he had to be strong.  He was the general of the Republic; he had to do this._

_“Is that it?” Johnson, to Mark’s left, asked snidely.  “That’s all that the leader of the Resistance has to say?  You’re just going to beg that we spare you?”_

_Shaking violently, the man on the ground nodded slightly.  Tears formed in his eyes.  Mark felt a small pain in his chest.  He forced it away.  They had already captured him and brought him back to their base.  Without their general, the Resistance would be at a disadvantage for a while.  He had to finish the job, no matter how hard it was.  For the sake of his people and his planet._

_"Pathetic,” Johnson sneered.  “Just do it, Mark.”_

_Mark nodded in response, his finger pushing the trigger in just a bit, stopping right before it would fire.  He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t kill this man.  He’d killed people before, but not since he was a foot soldier.  It’d been a long time.  And it was never this close and personal.  But he had to do it; he was a soldier, he was a General.  He had a duty to his army._

_He squeezed his eyes shut and pretended to not hear Collin’s shrieks for mercy as he pulled the trigger all the way._

            ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“No… No! It… I didn’t…” Mark trembled, recalling vividly the color and smell of the blood plastered onto the wall when he’d shot Smith.

“Didn’t _what_ , Mark?  Didn’t _murder_?” Felix got close, right in his face as he spoke, getting the fearful reaction he desired.  Mark’s eyes widened and his pupils dilated, petrified.

“Can you just _pretend_ that you didn’t draft over two-thirds of Mostand into the war, telling them that they were dying for a _noble cause_?  Telling them that once the war was over, peace would prevail?  And that the oppression would end?” Moving back slightly, Felix struggled to fit his tone to his face.  He was amused at Mark, but he wanted to strike terror into him more.  It was hard not to laugh, and to keep his voice startling.

Mark was paralyzed, his breathing quickening.

“You all thought you were fighting against the oppressors.  But you know what the Resistance thought?  They thought the _very same thing_.”

“What?” Mark croaked, voice shaking.

“That’s right, you heard me.  You thought _they_ were the ones who forced those laws to get passed, the ones that destroyed your farms and schools and jobs and so much more.”  Felix moved himself away from the other, standing back up tall.

“But they were!” The fire was back in Mark’s eyes in an instant.  “They killed their way into the Office, they held King Grant at gunpoint until he…” Mark trailed off again.

Felix smirked, knowing that Mark was piecing more together.  The light in Mark’s eyes died.

"That was you too, wasn’t it?  It wasn’t the Republic.  You… made him pass those laws.  And the Resistance thinks _we_ did it.”

“That’s right.  Good job at figuring it all out,” He patted the top of Mark’s head, sneering.  “ _Anyway_ ,” Felix began, cracking his knuckles.  “Any other _questions,_ _Mark_?  Before I _kill_ you and collect my reward?”

“You still didn’t answer the one earlier.  Why did you do all this?”  His voice was broken; Felix could hear the utter betrayal and defeat in it.

“You still don't get it, do you?”  Felix asked, slightly irritated.  He just wanted to be done, to kill him and collect his reward.  He’d done enough talking.  “Money, high-tech weapons, that’s what I want, that’s what I _need_.  The only reason you’ve lived until now is because my employer convinced me that my job would be easier if I let you all live and kill each other.  _I_ wanted to just kill all of you, both sides of this planet, right away.  But I let you live, and I let the Resistance just kill you all.  Less wasted energy on my part.  I mean,” Felix motioned around at the dead bodies in the room.  “An _idiot_ like _you_ in charge of an army?  There’s no way you would actually somehow ‘win the war’.  Plus,” He combed a hand through his hair, bored of talking this long.  “You all had to die gradually as an army, both you and the Resistance.  And you did. Now, I’m growing _tired_ of talking, to be quite honest.”  Felix took a seat in the chair next to Mark’s, which used to belong to Johnson.

“There’s no way both armies are completely dead,” Mark spoke softly.

“Oh, I can assure they are.  I will admit, they had a _bit_ of help.”  Felix spun around in the chair, it’s wheels creating a rolling noise.  “My employer sent out some of _his_ workers to help it move along faster.  He let the Resistance kill almost all of your soldiers, then he sent in some extras to finish you off.  After that, they wiped out the entire Resistance.”

“So I really am all that’s left.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, exasperated.  “We’ve already been over this.”  Felix stopped spinning, and he stood up again.  “I knocked you out.  I killed Johnson.  I killed the others in here with you.  All the soldiers out there killed each other with my employer’s help.   _They’re all dead._ ”  Moving to kneel in front of Mark again, he drew his dagger.

“Now, I’m bored.  And I’m ready to collect my gigantic reward for this years-long operation.”

Mark opened his mouth to speak again, but Felix beat him to it by plunging the knife deep into Mark’s stomach.  A scream of pain rang in the air as Felix twisted the knife.  He pulled it back out, the blood dripping onto the floor and his boots, mixing with the dried blood of the other soldiers.

“There.  Now, I’ll be on my way.”  Felix stood up and stared down at the dying man before him, ignoring the shrieking.  “Goodbye, Mark.”  With that, he turned and walked out through the door.

The last thing Mark saw was the pale face of Johnson, eyes still open, before his world turned to black.

**Author's Note:**

> If anybody actually read this whole thing, I applaud you. It's not my best work, but I'm hoping at least a few of you might enjoy it. <3


End file.
